


Onyx Black and Topaz Gold

by seleneheart



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Animal Transformation, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blanket Permission, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Genderbending, Ghost Bob Fraser, Happy Ending, Historical Inaccuracy, Magical Artifacts, Magical Quests, Magical Weapons, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Ray and Ray Friendship, Spells & Enchantments, Temporary Character Death, Witch Curses, Witches, Wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:07:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21719659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seleneheart/pseuds/seleneheart
Summary: Two men, each named Ray, grow up as close as brothers in a village in the northern woods. One day, they encounter a great white bear from the frozen lands caught in a hunter’s trap. The two Rays rescue the bear, and their act of kindness leads them down separate paths to adventures beyond their imaginations as the courage and strength of each man is tested and the truth in their hearts is revealed.
Relationships: Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski, Stella Kowalski/Ray Vecchio
Comments: 16
Kudos: 23
Collections: due South Seekrit Santa 2019





	Onyx Black and Topaz Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [comatosebadger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/comatosebadger/gifts).



> Based very loosely on “Snow White and Rose Red” by the Brothers Grimm. Tone inspired by the modern fairy tale anthologies published by Terry Wilding and Ellen Datlow, including “Snow White, Blood Red” and “Black Thorn, White Rose.” Like all true fairy tales (that haven’t been bowdlerized i.e. Disney-fied), this one is full of both brutality and wonder.
> 
> Happy dSSS, comatosebadger! I couldn’t resist your happy ending prompt, so of course my mind went to fairy tales.
> 
> Thanks to [delanach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delanach), [Ribby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribby), and ride_4ever for the beta work. I appreciate you making this story the best it can be.
> 
> And now it has a storybook cover thanks to Spacetimeconundrum! See the art here: [cover art](https://spacetimeconundrum.tumblr.com/post/190054574397/for-reasons-that-dont-need-exploring-at-this) and give a reblog!

Long ago, in a village nestled deep within the northern woods, two boys were born within a month of each other. Each mother of the boys named her son ‘Ray’ although they were as opposite in coloring and appearance as could be. The villagers were not happy about the naming; they believed each person should have their own name for fear that angry gods might accidentally confuse their fates and give the doom of one man to the life of another. But the mothers insisted that their babies had been given their proper names; names that would guide their fates. In order to keep them separate and perhaps avoid the wrath of the old ones, the villagers took to calling the boys after the stones that were mined in the hovering mountains. 

“Onyx Black” they called the boy with hair as dark as the shadows in the mines and eyes as green as the pines. “Topaz Gold” they named the other boy, for his hair was sunlight golden and his eyes were as blue as the autumn skies. 

The boys could have grown up to resent each other, jealous of the attention and angry that they were seen as one boy instead of two. That was not the case, however, as both boys were blessed with kind hearts and would not begrudge the other any love or attention from their village. The boys grew to men as close as brothers. Indeed, they called themselves ‘heart-brothers’ as they were brothers in their hearts if not in their blood. 

When they came of age, and no village lass had turned either one’s head, the two Rays, Onyx and Topaz, decided they would set up house together. Therefore they took over the woodcutter’s cottage on the flank of the mountains; the woodcutter had an unfortunate encounter with a dull axe, leaving the village ovens without a sure source of firewood. 

The two Rays were determined to set up their woodcutting business to support their mothers and families, especially Onyx, as the winter ague had taken his father the previous year and his mother had to feed his many sisters and their children. 

**

One mild spring day, after a productive day in the woods, Topaz was making his way back to the cabin while the shadows lengthened on the edge of dusk. Bats flittered from the trees to the fields and on a distant peak, a wolf sang to the rising moon. A ways off the path, there arose a terrible thrashing and growling amongst the underbrush. 

Topaz, who was as brave as he was kind, thought nothing of leaving the path to find the source of the distress. What he found astounded him — a great white bear from the far north, his leg caught in a poacher’s cruel trap, blood from the iron jaws staining his white fur. The bear was in such desperate straits that he had begun to gnaw on his leg in a doomed attempt to free himself. 

“Easy big fellow,” Ray crooned. “It hurts, I know. That sucks, but you gotta calm down.”

The bear stopped its thrashing and whimpering when Ray spoke, rising up on its hind legs and baring its teeth. The bear towered over Ray, with claws like knives and strong jaws that could crush his head. 

Ray held his hand out, showing it was empty. “Not gonna hurt you, okay? Lemme just try to get that open, and you can go on your way. Okay?”

The bear lowered its head, sniffing at Ray and finally deciding that Ray spoke true and meant it no harm. It plopped onto its rear end, leaving the wounded leg stretched out where Ray could reach it. 

“I’m just gonna use my axe, see if I can pry it loose. Not gonna use the axe on you.” Ray hoped it wouldn’t come to that, because he knew he could free the bear that way, but a wild animal missing part of its leg would never survive. A better kindness would be to kill the bear outright in that case.

The bear didn’t object to the axe and Ray approached the trapped leg cautiously. “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, fella?”

He set the axehead against the spring, but could not budge the wicked jaws. The bear gave a sad sniffle. 

“No! I’m not giving up.” Ray risked patting the bear’s muzzle. “Let me go and get my heart-brother. If both of us pull on it, we should be able to get you out.”

The white bear looked none too happy as Ray hurried away. Ray was worried too, hoping that the poacher wouldn’t check his traps before he could return with Onyx. 

At their cottage, Onyx had just started the kettle for their evening stew when Topaz burst into the house. 

“Blackie, you gotta help me!”

After quickly explaining the situation, Topaz gathered up several tools that he thought might be useful while Onyx banked the fire. The two men made their way back the way Topaz had come, along the path that led deeper into the mountains.

“Goldie. You know if I didn’t love you like my own brother, I would be questioning the soundness of your mind,” Onyx said as they hurried along. “The white bears are a travelers’ tale, meant to frighten children. They don’t exist. And if they did, they wouldn’t be this far south.”

“I know it sounds crazy,” Topaz responded. He was beginning to think he had imagined the encounter himself. 

The two men raced back down the path as the shadows between the trees lengthened. Topaz recited the landmarks as they went, determined to get back to the bear as quickly as possible. They found the bear just as Topaz had left him, although his earlier roaring had been reduced to pained and defeated whimpering. He stopped when the two men approached.

Topaz had no fear as he stepped in front of the bear’s terrible teeth. “Hey. We’re gonna get you out of this.” He reached out slowly, but the bear didn’t growl, and Ray slowly stroked the thick fur beside his powerful jaw.

“Enough!” Onyx demanded. “My supper is getting cold.”

They lit the lantern to see by and took up their woodsmen’s tools, iron mallets and mauls and axes. Both Rays set their strength against the spring of the trap and were able to slowly pry it open. 

When Topaz saw that the cruel teeth had disengaged from the bear’s flesh, he shouted, “Now, Bear, pull free!”

The bear obeyed and soon enough his paw was loose. Topaz expected him to bolt into the forest, away from men, away from the trap, but instead the bear limped forward and butted his huge head against Ray’s chest. Topaz laughed and wrapped his arms around the bear’s neck.

“You’re welcome.”

The bear turned to Onyx, but the man held up his hand. “I’m good, buddy.” He rummaged in his pack and pulled out a flask of water. “Actually, can we clean you up?” he asked, shaking the canteen. 

The bear sat back on its haunches, seemingly willing to be nursed. After the blood was cleaned away and the mangled flesh soothed back into its place, they wrapped the bear’s ankle with strips torn from Topaz’s shirt. 

Topaz hugged the bear again when they were finished. “You can go if you want, Bear. Or, you could come back with us. We have a warm fire and stew on the hob.”

He looked at Onyx for confirmation. His heart-brother shook his head fondly, and added. “You’re welcome to our hearth.”

The bear stood and shuffled up the path the way the two Rays had come. He stopped, looking at them expectantly. 

“All right, all right. We’re coming,” Topaz smiled as he helped Onyx gather up the tools. 

“I can’t believe you named him ‘Bear’,” Onyx laughed as they walked.

**

After that, Bear would disappear during the days, presumably on his bear-business, while the two Rays worked their woodsmen’s trade. Every evening though, Bear would reappear at the cottage and spend the night in front of their hearth. 

“I don’t understand why you soak up so much heat,” Topaz said as Bear sprawled in the fire’s warmth. “You’re supposed to be a creature of the frozen north.”

Bear gave him a tongue-lolling bear-smile.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Topaz would creep to the hearth and lay down beside Bear, completely unafraid of the creature’s massive claws and teeth, which could gut him by accident. But Bear was careful and always made room for Ray to curl against him.

Onyx would always roll his eyes and give them both nudges with his boot when he found them so in the morning. 

**

One morning in late autumn, Onyx announced that he was heading to the market ‘to buy a few trinkets’ and didn’t want company. Topaz suspected that there must be a pretty girl who had caught his heart-brother’s eye.

He smiled easily and said, “I think I’ll see if I can find some late season trout in the pool behind the waterfall. Good luck and be careful.”

“You too, brother.” 

For once, Bear didn’t disappear into the forest come day break, but instead walked with Topaz deeper into the mountains and up the path to the higher parts of the falls. Here the water ran clear and cold, and Ray could see several large trout drifting in the current, lazily stirring their fins as they hung in the water. 

Ray set a fly to his hook, but a glance at the angle of the sun told him he would have no luck on the shore. “I’m going to stand on the rocks,” he told Bear. “Don’t let your shadow cover the pool, or you’ll scare them away.”

Bear looked doubtful about his plan, but Ray insisted. He walked cautiously across the rocks at the head of the pool where the water plunged over on its journey into the valley. His line sizzled out, the fly landing as gently as you please on the surface, a tempting jeweled thing for the fish lurking below. 

A large trout rose to the lure, but when Ray set his line, his foot slipped on the wet rocks and he plunged into the pool. He was a good enough swimmer, but he forgot that the early snows up in the higher reaches of the mountains had chilled the pool. His legs refused to move, leaden in the cold, and his arms felt as though they didn’t belong to him.

Another splash drew his attention as Bear leaped into the pool, coming up underneath him so that Ray was draped over his withers. The northern bears were strong swimmers and used to icy waters, so Bear quickly got his companion to shore, rolling Ray with his snout until he was well clear of the water.

As Ray lay shivering and shaking at the edge of the pool, Bear nudged him with his nose. A voice said, “Get on my back.”

It was a very deep and rumbly voice, and the words weren’t very clear but it was very much in the human tongue. 

Ray rolled over with an aggravated sigh. “You talk.”

Bear looked apologetic. “Well. Yes. Could you get on, please? You are in danger of hypothermia.”

“Hypo-what-sis?”

“Ray!”

“All right, all right.” He stood up. “Could you, uh, get lower? You’re bigger than a horse.”

“Of course.”

Bear settled onto his paws and Ray slid onto his back, stabilizing himself with handfuls of the thick white fur that adorned Bear’s neck. Heat radiated from the huge animal, which had an immediate effect on Ray’s temperature; his shivering lessened. Bear scrambled to his feet, careful not to dislodge his burden.

“I am sorry I didn’t reveal my ability to you and your heart-brother,” Bear said. “But I had many unpleasant encounters on my journey south, and I thought it best to remain quiet.”

“You weren’t sure you could trust us.”

“Yes.”

They rode in silence for a few moments until Ray said, “Let’s not tell Blackie right away. We need to pick the perfect moment to surprise him.”

“Oh Ray,” Bear chided.

“What?”

After they reached the cottage, Ray wrapped himself in warm blankets to continue the process of thawing out. He started their evening meal just as Onyx returned from town. 

Opening his pack, Onyx drew out a basket of fresh blueberries and gave them to Bear. “You seemed to like them last time we had them.”

“Thank you kindly, Ray,” Bear responded, after Topaz nudged him.

Onyx sank slowly into the chair in shock. “You talk?”

Bear nodded, and Onyx shook a finger at Topaz. “You knew about this.”

Through his laughter, Topaz nodded. “Peace, brother. I’ve only known since today as well.”

Bear proved to be a good conversationalist when he chose, and would tell many stories in the nights by the fire. He refused to tell the two Rays his history though, or how he came to be so far south of his native lands. 

Oddly enough, although the people of their village had resorted to nicknames for the two Rays to distinguish them, Bear called them both ‘Ray’ and they never had trouble knowing which one of them he meant. 

“It’s probably the bear language,” Onyx said one evening after Topaz had posed the question. “To us, Ray is the same word, but to him, it means each one of us, so he says it differently."

**

After he discovered that Bear could talk, sometimes when Ray crept out to the fire to snuggle against the animal, he would talk to Bear. 

“Not that I mind,” Bear asked one night in his growly bear-voice. “You are welcome at my side. But why do you desert the comfort of your bed for the hard floor?”

“I’m afraid of the dark,” Topaz answered. “Pretty stupid, eh? Since I live in the middle of the forest?”

“Not at all, Ray,” Bear replied. “In my northern home, all have that moment of fear when the sun disappears at the beginning of the long night. Though the sun will return as it ever has, all peoples, animals and humans both, celebrate when at last the light returns.”

“Ah. Makes sense. Don’t, uh, you know, say anything to Blackie. He’s my brother, but brothers aren’t always kind to each other.”

“Understood.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No, I am not so fortunate.”

“I suppose you don’t understand silly fears.”

Bear answered slowly. “I am afraid of being alone.”

“Oh.” Ray rubbed his face against Bear’s pelt. “You have Blackie and me now. You don’t have to be lonely anymore.”

“For now,” Bear responded, his voice quiet.

“What do you mean?” Ray asked.

But Bear would say no more on the subject no matter how much Ray prodded him. After a time, Bear’s snores filled the small cottage. Ray lay against his friend, staring into the darkness in the deepest part of the night.

“You comfort me,” he whispered. “Blackie is my brother, but you are my best friend.”

**

As the year turned around to spring again, Bear stuck closer to the two men when they were at their work in the woods instead of disappearing during the day. Occasionally he helped them shift larger logs and one time shoved Onyx out of the way of a tree falling awkwardly. Bear never went with them towards town and if other people showed up, he would disappear into the shadows under the trees, quite a feat for an animal with a snow-white pelt.

One day in the early spring, the two Rays and Bear journeyed to where they had left off with their forestry work the previous autumn, only to find that an old crone was occupying their woodlot. She had attempted to cut down a tall pine tree, but the trunk had fallen awkwardly and trapped a hank of her long, white hair against the stump. She hopped and cursed terribly, her wizened face contorted in a snarl.

“This is my tree. Get away, you idiots!”

“Peace, mother,” Onyx said, holding his hands up. “Hey, hey, we’re not here for your tree. We just want to help.”

“Humphf,” she snorted, but offered no more objections to their aid.

However, such was the force of the trunk against the stump, and fast-running sap of early spring swelling the wood, that neither of the two Rays, nor their mighty bear companion could shift the huge timber. 

“Nothing for it,” Onyx said, pulling his knife from his belt and quickly severing the strand of hair that kept the crone a prisoner.

“What have you done to my beautiful hair?” she wailed, combing her hands through it and covering her face. "You stupid boys! Take your beast and leave me alone!”

Grumbling, Onyx and Topaz picked up their tools and moved further into the forest. 

A few days later, the three companions were making their way along the river where they frequently fished. From upstream, they heard some screaming and cursing. Hurrying forward, they found the old crone, once again. This time she was fishing in the deep pools and had snared a trout so large it nearly outweighed her. In its watery element, it had the mastery of her in strength and as the line whizzed out into the depths of the pools, it had tangled her hair. She was in danger of being pulled into the current and under the water by her prize.

As the fish leaped and prepared to dive deep, Bear lunged forward, huge paw swiping the fish out of the air and onto the bank. Remembering her ire the last time they rescued her, the two men worked diligently to untangle the crone’s hair from the fishing line while Bear kept a paw on the fish to prevent it from flopping back into the water. 

Alas, her hair was too completely entwined to come loose and this time Topaz pulled his knife out. “Nothing for it.”

Over her screech of objection, he cut her hair free.

“You bumptious lackwit!” the crone screamed. “My beautiful hair.”

Topaz snorted. “You’re welcome. Enjoy the fish.” 

Because such was the way of things back in those days, the two Rays and their ursine companion had another encounter with the crone. A week after the fish incident, they were bringing their cart along the path and as they rounded a rock outcrop, they saw an enormous eagle battling to lift its prey to its aerie. 

“Of course,” Onyx sighed, seeing that the eagle was attempting to lift the crone, its claws tangled in her hair. He pulled his knife from the sheath and darted forward, knife flashing out as he severed the hank of hair caught in the eagle’s talons. Bear rose to his full height with a snarl, and the eagle decided that this prey was not worth the battle, tilting its wings and catching an updraft as it disappeared. 

“You’ve ruined me!” the crone wailed. 

“You’re alive,” Topaz retorted. 

Anxious to defuse his heart-brother’s temper and make peace with the woman who seemed to cross their path on a regular basis, Onyx said, “If you’d smile a bit, no one would notice your hair. I bet you’d be really pretty if you smile.”

“Smile? Pretty? How dare you!” the crone shouted. 

“Why are you getting so upset?” Onyx asked.

The old woman drew herself up and curved her hands into claws aimed at Onyx. “I curse you to never smile again, to know only sorrow, never joy. As I will it, so must it be.”

Light flashed from her hands and hit Onyx on his forehead. He dropped his knife with a wail and fell to his knees. Topaz raced to his side, concern for his brother outweighing his need to rebuke the woman. 

“What did you do?” he shouted at the witch. 

“Gave him the punishment he deserved for such an insult,” she answered. “You should be glad I don’t do worse.”

With a whirl of her skirts, she disappeared amongst the trees.

“Come on, Blackie, let’s go home,” Topaz said. They couldn’t do anything out in the forest and he was wary of trying to follow the witch back to where she lived. 

**

Onyx sniffled the whole way back to the cabin, while even Bear seemed mournful and Topaz didn’t know what he could do to help either of them.

When they reached their home, Onyx shuffled over to the fire and huddled there, his hands clasped and his shoulders hunched. 

“Everything is terrible, Goldie,” he moaned. 

Topaz looked at Bear as if for support, but the animal shook his head. “I cannot help, and I fear I must add to your misery as well. For I am also cursed.”

“What are you talking about?” Topaz demanded. “Explain.”

“I may not reveal the full extent of my geas, but I may say this: I was given one year to live as I pleased. But at the end of the year, I must make the trek to the north pole, there to stay for the rest of my life. And never know either love or companionship.”

“No!” Onyx cried.

While Onyx wailed, Topaz stared at the ceiling, counting on his fingers. “It’s been nearly a year since we found you.”

“Yes.”

“Were you going to tell us?”

Bear shuffled his paws, looking ashamed. “I didn’t know how to broach the subject. The friendship offered to me by both of you is more than I ever expected.”

“Can’t you just not go?” Topaz asked.

“I’m afraid the compulsion of the curse is stronger than my will. Even now, I can feel it growing. Every step I take that doesn’t point north grows more difficult. Eventually, I will have no control over the direction I walk.”

“How long?”

“A few more days.”

“Let me understand,” Onyx said. “One day you would walk outside, and not be able to return?”

“Yes.”

Onyx sobbed while Topaz growled in frustration. 

“Well, if it’s a curse, it can be broken!” Topaz exclaimed. He spun around and shook his finger at Onyx. “That goes for you, too. Both curses can be broken.”

“You’re entirely correct,” someone said.

The three inhabitants of the small cabin whirled around, the men reaching for weapons, while the bear reared up to his full height. Standing in their doorway was an old man, dressed in brown furs and wearing an oddly shaped fur hat.

“Who are you?” Topaz demanded.

“Peace,” the man said, holding out his hands. “I mean you no harm.”

Bear settled onto his paws and shuffled forward, butting the man in the chest. His head passed through the figure. 

“A ghost?” Onyx asked. 

“Sadly, yes,” the man replied. “But one with a small enough amount of power remaining that I might be able to help you.”

Topaz glanced at Bear, who seemed to accept the stranger’s presence without qualm. He decided to trust Bear’s instincts. Besides the animal acted like he knew the man, although he had been suspiciously quiet on the subject. Bear was rarely quiet since he’d revealed his powers of speech. 

“How can you help us?” Topaz asked. “Can you lift the curses?”

The old man sighed. “No. I’m no longer strong enough for that. I can give you the means to lift them yourselves, but you must find the way on your own.”

“It’s hopeless,” Onyx whimpered. 

“No, it isn’t,” Topaz responded sharply. “What do we have to do?”

“You must undertake separate quests,” the old man said. He pointed to Onyx. “If you consent, I can give you the tools to break your own curse.”

“What about him?” Onyx asked, patting Bear.

“The golden one can break his curse,” the ghost replied, gesturing to Topaz. “If you have true courage, you may undertake the tasks.”

“What tasks?” Topaz asked. 

“You must journey to the far north to recover the Knife of the North and the Knife of the South.”

“Why is the Knife of the South in the north?” Onyx asked. “That makes no sense. It’s hopeless.”

The old ghost looked murderous, but Topaz injected, “Okay, magic. Doesn’t need logic. Right?”

“Indeed.”

“We need to leave quickly,” Topaz said. “Bear said his curse was about to manifest.”

“You must go alone,” the ghost said. “The black one must make his own way.”

“Alone to the north?” Topaz quailed. The north was a bitter, forbidding place, full of creaking ice and black waters. He had no experience with it, and wondered how his death would aid Bear.

“The bear will go with you, but not as your companion that he has been.”

“What do you mean?”

The old man turned to Bear, resting a gentle hand on the animal’s muzzle. “I must take your voice. You may help him but only as much as any tame animal might.”

He leaned forward, resting his head against Bear’s mighty brow. “I’m sorry. I’ve tried to find another way, but this is the only thing that might work. Your golden man must find the courage and will to do what is needed.”

“Agreed,” Bear rumbled. 

“Wait,” Topaz said. “How do I find these knives? I don’t know my way in the north. How will I know where to go if Bear can’t talk to me?”

“They lie on the bear’s path to the north pole. His curse will guide his steps; you merely must go with him. As for the knives, I will come to you when you are near them and reveal their locations.”

“Okay.”

“This task will be hard, harder than you know,” the old ghost insisted. “It will require all of your strength and courage. If you fail, he will suffer.”

“Blackie can’t do it,” Topaz replied, gesturing to his mournful heart-brother. “I’m all Bear’s got, so I’m going to have to be enough.”

He rested his hand on Onyx’s shoulder. “What about him? You said you’d help him too.”

“I can give him the means to help himself. But his lessons must come elsewhere. If you consent,” the old ghost said to Onyx.

“What do I have to do?” Onyx asked. “I don’t want to feel this way all my life. If I live that long.”

“You must journey to some larger village, to live there and see what the world looks like from another’s eyes.”

The two heart-brothers exchanged a puzzled glance, but both knew that there was no explaining the ways of wizards. 

“I’ll do it,” Onyx said.

The old man cupped his hand over Bear’s mouth, drawing out a golden ball of light that he then tucked into his garments. Then he turned to Onyx and ran his hand down in front of the darker man. Golden light covered him and when it disappeared, a pretty young woman stood in his place.

“What did you do?” Onyx asked. 

“Gave you the means to break your curse,” the old man snorted. “You may thank me forthwith.”

Topaz stared at Onyx’s new form with interest. 

“Stop it,” Onyx said, stamping his foot. “Unlike you, you know I like women, even if I am one now.”

“Never figured you’d be a pretty girl, that’s all. You don’t look anything like your sisters.”

“Are you insulting my sisters?”

Topaz held up his hands, “No, brother. Your sisters are like mine, you know that.”

“You must start your journeys,” the old man interjected. “I will return to you when you draw near the knives.”

“So I’m just supposed to go live elsewhere? And what? My curse is broken?” Onyx asked. “That’s it?”

“Your new form will allow you to learn what you need to break your curse yourself.”

The old man nodded to the three of them and then left the way he had come, shimmering to invisibility just as he crossed the threshold of their home.

“This is a hell of a thing,” Topaz muttered. 

But he was feeling the same urgency as the ghost, and he immediately considered how to pack and how to best get them both on their separate paths. 

“Take the wooden animals we’ve been carving all winter,” he urged Onyx. “You’ve gotta have some reason to be there if you’re going to a new village, or else they’re gonna think the worst of you. And take all our coins. The way my path is set, I won’t need them.”

“What will you take?” asked Onyx. “We don’t know anything about the bitter north. Winters in the forest are hard enough.”

“I’ll take all our winter skins and blankets. And as much of our food as I can carry.” He rubbed Bear’s jowl. “This would be easier if you would allow me to ride you once again, my friend.”

In response, Bear knelt down as he had before so that Topaz could reach his withers. Pleased that Bear seemed to understand his speech, even if his own voice was taken away, Topaz thought that he might have a chance to survive his quest.

The two Rays worked quickly; packing as many items as Bear could carry that would help Topaz survive the cold. They loaded a small pack for Onyx, careful of his slighter shoulders and lighter frame. Finally, by early afternoon, they had done all they could to prepare for their separate journeys, and they closed up the cabin. They couldn’t tell their families where they were going, but they hoped that the empty dwelling would not alarm their loved ones.

As Topaz pulled the door shut, and pushed in the latch, Onyx said, “We’ve never been apart for even a day. For as long as I can remember, you’ve been beside me.”

Topaz embraced him. “We will meet again, my brother. Stay safe and well.”

With a sniffle, Onyx turned his face to the south, while Topaz hoisted himself onto Bear’s back and the animal set off for the north. 

**

As they journeyed north through the forest, keeping the edge of the mountains to their left, Topaz found himself talking to Bear, just as he would have if the animal could still respond to him. After all, he had told Bear all his secrets and fears before he knew the animal could talk. Ray was reasonably sure the animal could still understand him, in spite of his muteness.

“Blackie’s curse is sorrow, and yours is loneliness. What is my curse?”

Bear had no answer for him, merely shambled along, muzzle pointed due north where the stars grew cold. Ray pondered the question. He had no doubt that he would end his life alone, knowing that Blackie would eventually find an agreeable woman and make his home with her. They were both well past the age where most men had their own households, but Ray didn’t doubt his heart-brother would find a mate. Since they had come of age, Ray had understood this truth. 

For himself, Ray knew that his nature made it unlikely that he would find someone to share his life with once Blackie left. He had long ago accepted it and had determined that he would be the best uncle Blackie’s children could ever hope to have.

“If I know I’ll die alone, does that make it a curse? It just is. Unless some fairy cursed my life before I was ever born, then this’s how it is.”

Bear flipped an ear back in his direction. 

“Who cursed you?” he asked suddenly, wondering why it hadn’t occurred to him to ask the ghost. 

Bear didn’t answer, of course. Ray wondered if the being that had laid the curse would object to its breaking and if he would have to fight to free his friend. They were clearly going to Bear’s home and presumably the source of the trouble. The ghost hadn’t mentioned what the knives were for - perhaps that was their purpose, to slay the enchanter. He’d worry about that once he had the knives. Surviving the north was a more pressing concern. 

After a while, Ray continued his musings. “I think my curse must be that I can’t love. I love you and Blackie, and my family. But I’ve never felt the love of true hearts meeting. Not the way the poets sing and Blackie talks. Not the leap of the spirit when you see that other person. There’s the needs of the body, of course, but that isn’t love. It’s like food when you’re hungry. And I’ve tried both women and men. None stir my soul.”

That night Ray dreamed of a man with storm-grey eyes who held him tightly and spoke with adoration. He thought the man must be a prince because he wore a brightly colored tunic and high, polished boots, quite a dashing figure in contrast to Ray’s rough, dull homespun clothing and crude shoes. In the dream, Ray felt that he was worthy of the man’s love. He awoke with tears on his face. 

“So it’s true. That’s my curse,” Ray muttered. “To never know love.”

Bear nuzzled his face but could offer no other comfort.

As the trees grew smaller and then disappeared entirely, Ray caught glimpses of a large wolf shadowing their trail. He didn’t doubt that the white bear was a match for any wolf, but not an entire pack of them, so he kept a wary eye on the wolf. But if it had a pack, the rest of them never turned up, and Ray grew used to their silent escort. 

Clearly Bear was a being of some importance in the northern lands, but Ray had no way to answer the riddle of his friend and thus dismissed it from his mind, more concerned with survival than foolish mental exercises.

**

After a few days trek, Onyx found himself in a good-sized town, and one well away from his home village so his face would not be recognized, even changed as it was. He pondered where to go, but after sleeping in the wild the last few nights, he was hungry and in want of a comfortable bed. He followed his nose to a public house. 

Upon securing a warm loaf and some cold ale, Ray retreated to the corner to learn what he could of the folk of this new place. The serving lad came by to refill his tankard when it was empty. 

“You’re new, right?” the boy asked. 

Ray nodded, afraid to speak because his new higher pitched voice troubled him. 

“You’re sort of pretty,” the lad said. “Or you would be if you’d smile. How about it? Show me your smile and I’ll show how I use my tackle.”

Disgusted with the crude offer, Ray picked up his food and hurried out of the inn. He made his way to the town center where he found the market stalls. The place was empty as it wasn’t market day, but Ray knew he could find one to sell the wooden animals when the day came around. 

“Please,” he asked a passerby, trying to compose his face into a pleasant expression, but the hopelessness of his plight would not allow him to smooth his brow. “When is market day?”

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t have to resort to selling trinkets,” the man replied. “Unless it’s goods of another sort you’re offering.”

The man leered and Ray found that any desire to be pleasant had entirely fled. “Not to you,” he snapped.

The man shrugged. “Your loss. You’d probably get more customers if you smiled. Whatever your trade might be.”

He turned away without giving Ray an answer about market day. So Ray approached a woman instead, thinking that the men perhaps thought he was too forward, but he had been accustomed to dealing with men as one of them when he wore his original guise.

“The day after tomorrow, dear,” came the answer from the well-appointed matron.

Ray supposed that he could find some corner to sleep in until them. Luckily the weather had warmed enough that he wouldn’t suffer for sleeping outside, although he longed for a comfortable bed. 

Two days later, Ray had secured a stall in the far corner of the market, far from the prime locations, but adequate for his needs. On the counter, he set out the little wooden animals that he and Topaz carved every winter out of boredom. They usually gave them to his sisters’ children, but the babes were growing older and would likely not miss them this year.

Ray didn’t know what he was supposed to do - the ghost had been less than helpful with his suggestion to go to a different town. How could a change of scenery be enough to make him happy again? Nothing that simple could break a witch’s curse.

Many people visited his stall, but few seemed interested in buying.

“Toys? You’re selling toys?”

Ray tried to present an amiable face to his potential customers, but he could feel the curse dragging the corners of his mouth down.

One well-dressed gentlemen lingered over the small statue that Ray had carved of Bear. “Young lady, your skills are lacking if you plan to become a merchant. Customers expect an agreeable experience. You should try smiling.”

“I don’t feel like it,” Ray responded, which was nothing more than the truth. 

The next customer was a younger man who seemed more interested in looking at Ray’s other assets to the point where Ray made no attempt to disguise that he was covering himself with his arms.

“You should smile,” the man said. “You’d get more customers.”

Another man told him that he should smile because it would improve his outlook on life. Wondering if that were the case, Ray tried it, but the sorrow lurking in his chest didn’t retreat. He decided that these men knew nothing about curses, or even happiness.

One woman came by, towing several children. “You know that no one will buy these?”

Ray sighed. “Here, let your children pick what they want.”

The children chattered excitedly while they made their choices. The woman eyed him sharply. “We don’t need charity.”

“I know,” Ray replied. “But you’re right, they won’t sell. I might as well give them to your children who will enjoy them.”

“If you don’t care about selling them, if you don’t mind my asking, why are you here?”

Ray found that the entire story was too much to inflict on a complete stranger, no matter how kind, so he said, “I just had to leave. To get away. This was the only excuse I could think of.”

The woman’s face melted from suspicion into sympathy. “Oh, dearie. I’m the blacksmith’s wife. If you need a place to . . . stay, our house is just behind his shop. You’ll find it at the crossroads to the west.”

Wondering what she had been going to say, Ray nodded solemnly. “Thank you for the kind offer. I’ll remember if I have the need.”

Other than that encounter, the day passed in a haze of men telling him he would sell more if he would smile and children coming by to choose a figure as a gift. By the time the sun had set, Ray had given away all of the wooden animals, but was feeling no less cursed. He decided to find a tavern to get some dinner.

After eating, Ray stepped outside to visit the privy, regretting that his new form wouldn’t allow him to relieve himself against the wall. He attended to his business, swearing at the ghost who had seen fit to give him women’s clothing in addition to a woman’s form. How did women cope with so many layers?

As he was smoothing his skirts in the dim light, a rough pair of hands grabbed his arms from behind and dragged him into the shadows at the back of the buildings. 

“What have we here?” a deep voice asked. 

Ray was spun around to face his attacker. The man had a youthful body and a comely face that was twisted in a sneer. He put both of Ray’s wrists in one hand and with the other, ripped the front of Ray’s bodice open.

“Leave me alone!” Ray snarled, tugging on his arms, trying frantically to get loose.

“I don’t think so. I’ve seen you today, pretty thing all on her own. And so sad.”

“Let me go!”

Ray tried to bring his leg up to kick his attacker in the groin, but the skirts impeded his motion and the man laughed at him.

“You need a good fucking. That’ll put a smile on your face.”

“No!”

But a heavy thigh forced between his legs and thick fingers tore at his underthings. Ray snapped his teeth, desperately trying to wound the oaf enough to get free.

“Easy, sweetcheeks. You wouldn’t want to piss me off.”

He gave Ray’s private hairs a brutal twist and Ray cried out in pain.

“Let her go,” another voice said, and the man holding Onyx froze.

Hard hands dropped away from his body and the oaf took a step back. Ray saw that there was a knife at the man’s throat, held by delicate slim fingers in a grip that indicated the owner knew what she was doing with it. Ray backed up as soon as he was free.

Turning his head, Ray saw a face that matched the hand. She had a tumble of dark curly hair, with a slim nose and beautiful eyes. She pulled out another knife from her skirts and set it at the man’s crotch.

“Which shall it be?” she asked pleasantly. “Your throat or your balls?”

“No, mistress. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“So you’ll let me choose.”

The man whimpered and as Ray watched a wet patch spread out from his crotch. The woman laughed. 

“You’re not worth my trouble. Get out of here!”

The man fled, while Ray stared at her in awe. 

“Where’s your knife?” the woman demanded.

“My knife?”

“Yes, your knife. You look like a woman grown, but you talk like a simpleton. No woman is so foolish as to walk out alone without a knife at her belt. Or two. Or more.”

“I don’t have a knife.”

The woman snorted. “I should leave you to your fate. But I’m feeling charitable tonight. And your unwilling suitor amused me, so I’ll help you. Come.”

Hoping he wasn’t making a mistake, Ray followed his rescuer away from the tavern.

**

Once the trees disappeared, the land changed, full of pools and bogs and low bushes. The wolf kept pace with them, finding concealment somehow in the vast flat land. As they headed north, Topaz saw a spike of rock thrusting up out of the plains around it like a phallus. Bear headed straight for it and Ray had a bad feeling that the sharp knife of rock was important for his quest. When they finally reached it, Ray saw that the rock was a column of granite a hundred meters tall, perhaps the throat of an old volcano whose outsides had eroded away. 

Bear stopped at the foot of the pillar and Ray slid off his back.

The old man shimmered into being at the base of the rocky spike. “The Knife of the South rests on the top of this peak. You must climb. It is guarded by three red-tailed hawks. You must take three stones with you. You can drive the hawks away with the stones but do not throw them until you reach the summit. If you miss, the Knife of the South will slay you. If you hit the hawks, they will let you take the Knife.”

“Of course,” Ray said. “This couldn’t be a simple climb the stupidly steep mountain and retrieve the knife sort of thing.”

“You seek a great prize,” the old ghost responded. “Perhaps the greatest in all the north. No one promised you it would be easy.”

“Greatest in the north, eh?” Ray said. He leaned against Bear, carding his finger through the thick fur at Bear’s ruff. “Does that mean you’re King of the Bears?”

The great white bear nuzzled Ray’s neck and then licked his cheek. When Ray turned around, the wizard was gone.

Ray applied himself to the task of getting up the rock. Luckily, he had brought his woodsman’s gear. It sometimes happened that the larger trees wouldn’t fall without removing their upper branches so either he or Onyx would ascend the trunk with axe and saw. They had spikes to attach to their boots and ropes with harnesses to aid their climb. True, the trees were not of the same height as the rock pillar, but Ray hoped the process was similar. He wished that his heart-brother was there to guide him. He would feel easier if Onyx was below, feeding out the rope.

“I don’t suppose you can hold the belaying line, could you?”

Bear looked puzzled, and Ray knew he didn’t understand. He hadn’t been with the two of them as they worked in the woods enough to know what Ray meant. On the other hand, Ray considered, Bear had at least ten times the weight that Onyx did. Bear had shown that he still understood human speech. If he could understand the task, perhaps he could help.

“Okay, listen, Bear. I need someone below to be a counterweight. Can I put a harness on you? If I slip, you’ll keep me from falling. Understand?”

Bear sat up on his haunches and lifted his paws. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Ray set about getting the rope around Bear’s shoulders and showing the animal how he would play out the coil as he climbed. He hunted around at the base of the spike to find three rocks that fit well in his palm and were a good size for accurate aim. He placed them in the sack at his waist and practiced getting them out with one hand while the other hand clung to the rope. Finally, Ray attached the climbing spikes to his boots and then stood bouncing on his feet, trying to get his nerve up for the climb.

“I don’t care about dying so much. But I don’t want to fail you.”

Bear nuzzled him again and Ray took courage from the animal’s faith in him.

Moving slowly and carefully, Ray began the climb. He tested every tiny nook and cranny of rock before he wedged his climbing spikes in or before he looped the rope around an outcropping. His knees ached from the strain and his arms shook. He refused to look down to either check on his progress or to see that Bear was doing his bidding. He concentrated on the rock in front of him.

When the first hawk dove at him, Ray thought about getting a rock out and trying to drive the bird away. But the difficulty of the ascent had taught him that he couldn’t hope to hit the bird while in the middle of the climb. If he tried, he would miss and everything would be for naught. Gritting his teeth, he endured the attacks from the birds as their claws raked his back. Fortunately, as close as he was to the rock wall, they couldn’t get near enough to him to damage his hands without crashing themselves.

Fiery rivers of pain seared down his back and his shirt grew wet with his blood and sweat. Ray tuned everything out, ignoring his purpose, his pain, and his weariness, concentrating only on every bit of rock that he overcame on the way to the summit. 

Finally, Ray looped his rope over a large boulder at the top of the rocky spike. He heaved himself onto the summit and lay in the dirt, panting. He wiped at his face, clearing away sweat and tears. He rolled over to take stock as the hawks renewed their attacks. He was an easier target now that he was away from the rock wall, and one of them raked claws across his head.

Ray stood up and looked around, pulling a rock out of his pouch. He saw a large knife in a leather sheath wedged into the crack in a pile of boulders. The Knife of the South was within easy reach. But a screech from one of the birds reminded him that he couldn’t touch the knife yet.

He turned his attention to the birds. Bending down, he picked up a handful of rocky dirt and let it sift through his fingers, watching the way the winds took it. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the hawks diving towards him. In one smooth motion, Ray stood up and hurled the rock straight at the plummeting bird. The rock hit it right between the eyes and the hawk wheeled away, crying as it went.

The remaining two birds didn’t try to attack him directly. Instead they circled around him, their flight dizzyingly erratic. Ray narrowed his eyes, focusing on only one of the hawks, letting his mind see the path it was taking. He threw the second rock not where the bird was, but where it would be. This rock struck home too, knocking the hawk out of its flight with a cloud of feathers. The second hawk left the summit, calling after its brother.

The third hawk landed on the hilt of the Knife, staring Ray down. Ray sighed, because he had no way to anticipate which way the bird would launch if he threw the rock. And he knew that’s what the bird was waiting for - him to commit to his throw. They were at a standoff and Ray had no doubt that he would starve to death before the bird would move. Magic had no logic, as Blackie had pointed out. 

Palming the last rock behind his fingers, Ray edged forward cautiously. He reasoned that the closer he could get to the bird, the better chance he had of hitting it when he threw. At this range, however, the bird could easily rip his face off with its strong talons. He considered the risk worth it, because failing to hit the hawk with the rock meant his death anyway. 

The bird let him approach until he could reach out and touch it. With a wild impulse, Ray reached out with the rock in his hand and knocked the hawk lightly on its breast.

“Gotcha,” he said. 

The hawk screeched and then launched off the Knife, leaving the rocky crown. 

“Huh.” He looked at the Knife. “That counts, okay? I hit it with the rock. Don’t kill me.”

He expected the Knife to be wedged tightly in the crack to resist the winds and weather of the north, but when Ray touched the scabbard, it dropped into his hand. He pulled it free to inspect his prize.

The Knife of the South had a long blade that tapered until it had a double edge at the point. The handle was solid black walnut from the sort of tree that rarely grew in the north. The guard at the end of the handle was made of brass. There was nothing special about its appearance, being quite plain. However, the blade was heavy and its point made it clear that the Knife was lethal and meant for one thing only - killing.

Ray shuddered at the deadly thing and put it away, strapping it to his back. It pressed against the cuts from the hawks’ claws, but Ray ignored it like he was ignoring all the other complaints of his body. He took a long drink from his flask and then prepared to descend. 

A tug on the rope showed that Bear was still below, keeping tension on the ropes. Ray put his gloves on and backed over the edge. The trip down went much more quickly than the ascent, as usual. When he reached the bottom, Ray wiggled out of the harness and ripped his shirt off. He tumbled facedown in the moss, finally allowing himself to feel the pain of all his wounds. 

Something warm and wet scraped softly over his back. Bear was cleaning his wounds. 

“Thank you, my friend,” Ray mumbled. “I think I’m just gonna . . . sleep.”

Bear curled around him as they had so many times over the months they had known each other. Ray drifted off, warm and content that he had succeeded in the first task.

**

Onyx followed the woman who had intervened in his rape through a maze of alleyways to a room above a hat shop. When they were safe inside, the woman said, “I’m Victoria. Who are you?”

Not knowing how far his nickname had traveled and knowing he couldn’t give his real name, Ray said his youngest sister’s name. “Frannie.”

“All right. _Frannie_. Why aren’t you armed?”

Wondering if his sisters went about loaded with knives and how if they did, he never knew about it, Ray said, “My family was very protective. I’ve never needed one.”

“And where is your precious family now?”

“I, uh, needed to get away,” Ray said.

Understanding flooded her face. “I see. Say no more.”

While Victoria paced around him, Ray wondered if he’d stumbled into some secret female code, where ‘getting away’ meant something different to them. Perhaps they thought he was escaping an arranged marriage or an abusive spouse. 

“You are pretty enough,” Victoria said at last. “Not as pretty as me, of course. But you seem to have no idea how to use your beauty. I’ll teach you.”

“Teach me what?”

“How to get men to dance to your tune. To let them think they have the power while you take everything from them. How to give your body where you please and not where they choose.”

Despite being a man for most of his life, Ray came to the conclusion that he didn’t know how to deal with them when he was in this form. Every man he had met made assumptions about him based on how he looked with his curves and slight frame. He supposed that if he were forced to keep this shape, he had best learn how to survive without getting raped or beaten. Or worse. The idea of willingly giving himself to a man made him blanch, though; changing his shape hadn’t changed his desires. He would be interested in the lovely Victoria, but she had a viciousness about her that repelled him.

Still, he could learn from her. “All right. School me in these skills.”

“We’ll need to move on to the next town. You’ve been noticed and not in a good way. A broken dove in need of either rescuing or further breaking.”

“I’ll let you guide me.”

“We’ll leave in the morning.”

Victoria guided Ray to her narrow pallet where they shared a blanket. Ray had trouble falling asleep as the events of the day played out in his mind. He wondered if he was a virgin, and how long he could avoid letting a man into his body. He had no idea the world was such a frightening place for a woman. Once the curse was broken and he regained his own shape, he felt that he owed his sisters an apology for not realizing. They would never understand why he knew their struggles, but he could at least try.

In the morning, they left by the east gate. They were walking because Victoria explained that a woman on a horse would draw attention. While they walked, Victoria explained to him how to appear confident, how to appear untouchable, how to draw men in to do your bidding.

“Above all, you must never let them know how much you loathe them. A pleasant smile will take you far.”

“I don’t feel like smiling,” Ray said. “What is there to smile about?”

“Fake it,” Victoria retorted. “Men need never know your true thoughts.”

It was a lot to take in, and once again, Ray wondered if he should talk to his sisters. 

In the next town, Victoria again found lodging above a nondescript shop. As they settled in, she said, “We need to find you a patron. Someone pleasant enough to keep you. That’s the only solution to your problem that I can see.”

“My problem?”

“Yes,” she answered impatiently. “You’ve clearly run away from some dire situation. The only way to keep your freedom is to give away the part that doesn’t matter.”

“My body.”

“Of course. Men may do what they like with us, but if we choose, they can never touch our souls.”

“I can’t,” Ray said. “I’ve never . . .”

Victoria sighed. “Save me from timid virgins. That purity angle will take you only so far. To keep a man, you must be adventurous and wanton.”

Ray shook his head, appalled at the idea. 

“If you teach a man how to pleasure you correctly, it can be quite enjoyable.”

With despair, Ray realized that he didn’t know how to treat the body he’d been given. “I don’t know how.”

“Have you never touched yourself?”

Of course, Ray had done so, but not with the body he currently occupied. The whole conversation made him uncomfortable, and he wished that Victoria had latched onto some other way to aid him. 

“No,” he answered shortly. 

Victoria touched one of the curls escaping from Ray’s chignon. “Let me show you.”

Her voice was full of unexpected warmth and her eyes were tender. She tugged in the tendril of hair with gentle hands. “Let me. It can be so sweet, letting someone pleasure you.”

But Ray wasn’t fooled by her honeyed words; the cruelty that he’d sensed in her simmered under the surface. He jerked his chin out of her grip.

“No!” he snarled, feeling as though his girlish voice wasn’t enough to convey his disdain for the idea.

She stared at him for long moments, perhaps testing his resolve to decline the pleasure she offered. Then her lips twisted into a sneer. “Next time I’ll leave you to your rapist.”

Aware of his precarious position, and knowing he still needed her help, Ray said, “I owe you for saving me, I know that. But I can’t pay you back that way. Please. I just can’t.”

“Hmm, at least you admit the debt between us,” she mused. “I suppose I’ll find some other way for you to repay me.”

Thankful that she’d accepted his protest and didn’t seem likely to abandon him just yet, Ray decided he’d worry about what else she might demand from him later.

The two women went to the nearby inn for their evening meal. Under Victoria’s guidance, Ray put the lessons she had imparted to him to use, finding that if he faked interest in the men at the tavern, he and Victoria would pay for nothing. And indeed, they left the inn with several trinkets making their necks heavier. 

“See?” Victoria laughed as they swept into their room. “With the right incentive, men will give you whatever you want. Jewels, dinner, a house and servants.”

“If it’s so easy,” Ray argued, not willing to think so little of his gender. “Why aren’t you doing it? Why live like a vagabond?”

“I’d rather be a free vagabond than a caged bird,” Victoria replied.

Ray scoffed. 

“You don’t believe me?” Her eyes grew cold. “Then tomorrow we’ll play a different game, and you’ll see how far a tantalizing woman can drive a man.”

Ray was relieved when Victoria didn’t reach for him as they lay in bed. He turned his back to her, wondering what he had gotten himself into and if there was any way he could escape. He would go back to the cabin in the green woods with his curse unbroken if it meant he was able to forget the terrible parts of human nature.

In the morning, Victoria seemed to have forgotten her promise and they seated themselves in the town square by the fountain. She pulled a small harp out of her bag, and sang in the sweetest voice Ray had ever heard. The townsfolk were entranced; particularly the men, and soon they had an avid audience. Victoria sang throughout the afternoon, stopping only to wet her throat when her voice grew ragged. 

By evening, she announced, “Frannie and I are hungry. Where is the best food in this town?”

Several men volunteered to escort them to the public house, and once again, neither woman was asked for any coin for their beer and meat. Victoria seated herself between two well-appointed young men, and flirted outrageously with both of them. Ray wondered what she was playing at, or if she meant to take both of them to her bed at once. 

Her voice grew taunting, and Ray stopped paying attention to any of their other companions to focus on what she was saying. To his disgust, he found that she was subtly insulting each man while implying that the insult came from the other. Anger clouded their faces and Ray was sure that neither would be willing to share her if it came to that. 

“I’m afraid I can’t decide between you,” she said. “Come let us settle this dispute away from prying eyes. Frannie, you may have my leavings.”

Fearful of what she might be planning, Ray followed Victoria out the door and into the shadows at the edge of the buildings. He had uncomfortable memories of his own encounter in such a place days before. 

“Now, if I’m to judge fairly, I must try you both,” Victoria said, settling her arms around one young man’s neck and receiving a deep kiss in return. “And now you,” she told his fellow, receiving an equally passionate kiss.

“Hmm,” she tapped her lip. “I’m afraid I need more. What will each of you give me?”

“My mother’s jewels,” one young man answered. “My father’s land,” said the other.

“I don’t think that’s enough,” Victoria told them sadly. “For one of you would always be on the outs and while Frannie is a prize, she is but a distant second and could hardly be expected to make up for losing out on me.”

“What can we do to prove our sincerity to you?”

“I’m not sure,” she answered. “Rivals are such a messy business.”

And so it went, with the men promising her more and more extravagant gifts that Ray was certain they could never provide, and Victoria harping on the difficulties of love triangles. As the three talked, Victoria stealthily undid the buttons of her chemise, opening the garment wider and wider, perhaps to give them a preview of what delights awaited them once the dispute was resolved.

But the tactic wasn’t working because the men seemed less and less able to focus on their argument the more skin she revealed. Ray couldn’t understand what she was doing. Surely she’d proved her point that men would give her whatever she asked?

When Victoria seemed to be on the verge of walking away from the dispute, the taller of the two shouted, “No, I’ll prove my worth!”

Thereupon he pulled his belt knife and plunged it into the neck of the other man. Too late did Ray realize the danger they were all in from Victoria’s ploy, as blood spurted across the tiny courtyard. The man collapsed immediately, his eyes rolling back into his head. 

The first man seemed to come out of his lustful trance with a shake of his head. “Drew? Oh no, what have I done?”

“The magistrates will want to know that as well,” Victoria interjected. 

He stared at her, eyes wild, before throwing the knife to the ground and running off into the dark. Victoria nudged the corpse with the toe of her shoe, giving a wild laugh.

“What did you do?” Ray whispered.

“I? I did nothing. You were here. Never once did I suggest such an outcome.”

“But you planned it.”

She shrugged. “I’ve been trying to tell you. Men are easy. They will give you anything.” She glanced at the dead man at her feet. “Even their lives.”

Ray swallowed against the bile rising in his throat. “I once thought you the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. But your beauty hides a heart as rotten and evil as any hell-wrought demon.”

She smiled at him. “What does your heart hide, pretty Frannie? Will you show it to me?”

“No,” Ray replied. 

But she reached for him and it seemed as though her delicate hands had turned to claws as sharp as knives. Ray could take no more and with a whirl of his skirts darted into the darkness, away from the path of the murdering swain. 

Ray ran until his legs were shaking and trembling, as far away from the town as he could go. He took an angular path to avoid pursuit, full of switchbacks and curves. When he finally could not take another step, he huddled in a ditch, pulling his cloak over him in hopes of avoiding detection. 

**

After a few more days of travel, Topaz and Bear ran out of the sparse vegetation of the tundra and moved into the snow fields that never melt. The wolf that had been shadowing them since they reached the boreal forest didn’t follow them onto the ice. 

Topaz fashioned a tent out of canvas that he had brought with them, strapped to Bear’s back. He knew his crude shelter would never last when the winter winds came whipping, but as far as he could tell, it was still summer time to the south. The sun had stopped setting all the way and his sleep was restless. The warm bulk of Bear in the night was his only comfort. 

Food was harder to find, and the stores of dried meats that they had on hand quickly disappeared. As soon as they made camp each night, Bear would disappear off hunting. He brought parts of his catch back to Ray, who cooked it over their small fire. Ray doubted he would survive this far north without Bear.

“We must be getting close, right?” he said, knowing Bear couldn’t respond.

It comforted him to talk to his friend even though Bear was currently mute. Ray looked forward to breaking the curse and being able to converse with Bear again. They could return to the woods and to Onyx, and everything would be like it was before. 

One morning, Ray exited the tent as the sun just barely touched the horizon, sending rays of light across the lumpy field of snow. The light was golden but the shadows of the snowy ridges were purple. The crystals of snow that always hung in the air from the wind or their steps glittered in the light, like motes of fairy dust. 

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed.

Bear nudged him and Ray could swear he was smiling. 

“Your home is beautiful,” he said as though he were complimenting some goodwife on her cottage. But Bear seemed pleased.

The next day of travel they ran across a band of hunters of the people who were at home in the far north. Bear shook himself the way he did when he wanted Ray to get down from his back. As Ray reached the ground, Bear raised up on his hind legs, sniffing the air, and then darted away behind an upthrust ridge of ice. Ray found his feet refused to move, wondering what had frightened such a fearsome beast as Bear was. 

He understood when the hunters came into view, sliding on large woven shoes. They wore the pelts of Bear’s kin. Ray remembered how Bear had been reluctant to reveal his abilities to him and Blackie. The only predator Bear feared was men.

Ray raised his hands to show he was unarmed. He had only his belt knife in any case. The Knife of the South was strapped into his pack and Bear had run off with all of his forester’s tools. The men approached him cautiously, but Ray forced himself to relax. 

He was sure they had been aware of him almost as long as Bear had known about them, but they made no indication that they knew his companion was one of the great Northern bears. 

They said something in their language, clearly a question, but Ray had no way to know what they meant. He wondered if Bear understood their language the same way he did Ray’s. But Bear was at risk from these hunters and Ray could get through this without him.

The hunters encircled him and one of them, a younger man with shorter hair, pointed to the hilt of the Knife of the South sticking up out of Ray’s pack. 

Ray spread his hands away from his body. “Not gonna use it. I promise. I don’t even know what it’s for.”

The man who seemed to be in the lead nodded as though he understood. With a few sharp commands, the other men bustled about setting up a fire circle and pulling out cooking stones. The leader gestured for Ray to sit with them at the fire, which he did cautiously, afraid to do anything to offend them.

They pulled skin-wrapped bundles of meat out of their gear, and cut it quickly with oddly shaped knives. The blades were curved like crescent moons and handles of bone joined each end of the crescent. The men held them from above, slicing down instead of across the way most knives worked. 

The meat that they shared with him was strongly flavored of berries, but warm and delicious. The men talked softly among themselves while Ray watched them carefully, and the leader watched him. The party was otherwise relaxed and Ray surmised that they had had a successful hunting trip. One lone southerner posed no threat to them, and indeed, they probably thought he was an escaped lunatic of sorts, traversing the ice unprepared and alone. 

The leader picked up Ray’s hand and touched it to his forehead and then he repeated the gesture on his own head. Ray mimicked the moves as best he was able and the leader nodded to him. The soft talk continued around him, but Ray knew that he was safe and he dozed off to the sound of low voices. 

When the sun teased his eyes in the morning, Ray found the fire was out and the men were gone. The only signs of their passage was the circle of tamped-down snow. 

“It’s okay, Bear,” he called softly. “They’re gone.”

To his left, a hillock of snow heaved up, revealing his friend. Bear had been within striking distance all night. Ray wondered whether the men had known. It warmed his heart to know that Bear would protect him even at the risk of his own life, but it chilled him at the same time. If the hunters had decided to kill Bear, Ray didn’t think he would have been able to stop them. The very idea of Bear’s death made his heart clench and tears threaten. 

The two companions resumed their journey north. Or Ray assumed they were going north. With the sun not behaving as it should and the stars barely out, he was having trouble navigating. But Bear’s curse wouldn’t let him turn south, so north it was. Ray didn’t know how he would ever figure out their path, because for all its fantastic shapes, one hillock of snow and ice looked much like any other after a while.

Sometimes they passed piles of rock that couldn’t have been made by nature. Ray presumed the hunting people they had encountered put them up for landmarks, but he didn’t know what they meant, so he couldn’t use them.

After a few more days travel, they came upon a river winding through the ice, the water flowing slowly and constricted through the frozen channel. Ray slid off of Bear’s back, somehow knowing this was their next trial. Sure enough, the old man appeared in front of them. 

“The Knife of the North lies ahead,” he said.

“Okay, what do I have to do this time?” Ray asked. 

The ghost pointed to a dark smudge at the bottom of the cliff just above the water. “Crawl through that crevice. The Knife of the North can be found at the end."

“Dark cave, right. What do we have that I can use for a torch?”

“No! You can’t take a torch,” the ghostly wizard explained. “It will melt the ice and disrupt the balance that keeps the cave open. You’ll pull the entire glacier down around your head.”

Ray stopped his rooting through the gear on Bear’s back and leaned against the massive animal. “I’m afraid of the dark,” he whispered. 

Bear turned his head and stared at Ray, his eyes full of sympathy. Bear knew all about Ray’s fears, he’d heard all of them on the nights they’d spent together in front of the hearth in their cabin. Ray shuddered at the idea of crawling through the dark, no way to know what was in front of him, no way to anticipate any threats.

But if his courage failed, Bear would die alone and friendless at the north pole.

“Only for you,” Ray said, hugging Bear’s neck, and trying to find strength in the animal’s steady warmth. Bear nuzzled his shoulder, and then knelt down as he did when Ray was getting on his back.

“Oh, yeah, I suppose I shouldn’t try to swim across the nearly frozen river.”

Shuddering at the idea of trying to swim that icy water and remembering how his arms and legs had refused to work when he had fallen in the trout pool, Ray quickly climbed aboard Bear, taking a double handful of fur at his ruff. He had never tried to ride Bear while the animal was swimming. 

As the animal approached the water, Ray pulled his feet up until he was nearly crouched over Bear’s wide shoulders. The water turned out to be mostly shallow, up to Bear’s belly, except for the channel in the middle where Bear was forced to swim. Ray concentrated on keeping his balance and not interfering with Bear’s strokes.

The old man was waiting for them beside the mouth of the cave. “Remember your purpose, son,” he said kindly. “Take courage.”

Ray nodded and hugged Bear one last time. He bent to enter the cave, but soon found it impossible to keep walking as the icy ceiling descended. He moved his pack from his back to his front, and then he dropped to his knees, trying not to think of the weight of ice above him. All too soon, the light from the outside dimmed and he was moving forward in darkness. 

Closing his eyes that weren’t useful anyway, Ray concentrated on thoughts of Bear and Blackie, and sunlight drifting on golden motes through the green woods in the morning. He felt forward carefully with his hands, testing every part of the passage before sliding his knees forward. Ray comforted himself with the idea that the ice cave likely didn’t harbor any of the usual creeping and crawling things found in caves. 

He grew thirsty and cursed himself for not thinking to bring a canteen with him.

“I’m in the middle of an ice cube,” he muttered, turning his head to lick at the walls enclosing him.

But the ice was centuries old and tasted of minerals. “Okay, bad idea.”

He resumed his slow crawl, having no way of knowing how much time had passed or how close he might be to his goal. 

At one point the path narrowed to the extent that Ray could barely move and a spike of ice pressed down against his spine. Panic froze his brain and he gasped for air, unable to breathe. But his body warmth melted the ice beneath him and soon he could move again. Sweat broke over his body and Ray feared that his clothes would become wet enough to chill him to where he couldn’t recover. 

Nothing to do but keep moving, he told himself.

Finally, the crevice widened and Ray’s questing hands felt a kind of plinth in front of him. He was able to sit up in the low cavern, but he could see nothing. He reached forward cautiously and slowly, for if the Knife of the North was as deadly as the Knife of the South, Ray didn’t want to test its edge on his own flesh. 

His fingers encountered a piece of metal and he carefully traced its shape, finding that part of the blade was stuck into the ice of the plinth. Reaching upward, Ray found the handle and wrapped his fingers around it, prepared to use what leverage he could from his crouched position to pry the blade loose. To his surprise, the blade came free as soon as he wrapped his fingers around the handle. 

Ray wrapped it carefully in a skin and then placed it in his pack beside the Knife of the South. 

He couldn’t find room to turn around, and pushing with his feet the way he thought he had come revealed nothing but more ice. Panic crowded his throat at the thought of being trapped in the icy chamber until he died of starvation, but Ray pushed it away with effort. 

“Okay, can’t think when I’m thirsty,” he said. Forcing himself to ignore the taste, he licked the cavern walls until his throat was wet again and his head was clearer.

Getting to his knees, Ray circled the small chamber, one hand on the plinth and one hand on the walls. At what he thought was the opposite way from where he entered, he found an opening. Ray supposed that he must have gotten turned around in the dark and comforted himself with the idea of Bear waiting for him at the other end. 

“Only way out is through,” he told himself reassuringly.

Tightening the straps of his pack against his chest, Ray prepared for the return journey through the dark and twisted path. He crawled forward, using his hands to scout his path once again, before he brought his knees and the bulk of his weight forward. But soon he realized that this path wasn’t the same one he had entered by. For one thing, it slanted up, leading higher into the glacier. For another, the ceiling rose and Ray could have stood up if he liked. But Ray feared cracks and weak places in the old ice, and he stayed on his knees.

After a time, the darkness retreated to dimness that Ray could see behind his closed eyes. Opening them, he found himself on a wide flat path where he could easily stand upright. The ice around him was a grayish-blue as it filtered the sunlight from above. Being able to see again was reassuring, but Ray was wary of rushing forward, so he kept his slow pace, testing each step before committing himself to it.

Finally, he saw sunlight streaming through a crack in the wall and he stepped outside to the endless blue sky. Ray took a deep breath of relief that the darkness was behind him.

But looking around, Ray found himself in the middle of a vast field of snow with no sign of the river or Bear. And of course, the old wizard was never around when he would actually be useful.

He turned in every direction but could see no landmarks to tell him where he was. “Bear!” he shouted, feeling disheartened, but knowing that sound would travel far in the cold air. 

He hoped that he wasn’t south of their previous position, because if he were, the curse wouldn’t allow Bear to come to him. Ray didn’t have any idea how he might go about figuring out where he was, and despair settled around him. But long experience in the woods told him that if Bear were searching for him, the last thing he should do is to try to move. They could circle each other for days and never know it. 

“Nothing to do but wait,” he said. For if Bear didn’t find him, then Ray wouldn’t survive long. He had no supplies and no shelter. Not unless he wanted to go back into the cave. But he had a sneaking suspicion that he would find the way blocked. 

Rummaging in his pack, he found some dried meat at the bottom. At least he wouldn’t starve right away. He pulled out the skin-wrapped bundle that was the Knife of the North.

Opening the coverings, Ray saw that the Knife of the North was shaped like the knives the hunting party had carried. Its crescent blade was finely wrought steel and its handle was the horn of some strange creature, covered in intricate carvings. Unlike the Knife of the South, this knife was not obviously a killing blade but Ray had seen the ease with which it sheared through flesh and he knew it was just as deadly as the other knife.

“But what do I do with you?” he asked.

Nothing answered him; not even the ghost came by to be cryptically unhelpful. Ray thought about Blackie and wondered if his heart-brother was having any better luck with his curse. 

As the sun dipped lower, Ray saw something moving on the edge of the plain in the direction of the sun’s path. The light blinded him but as he shaded his eyes, he could just make out the shape of a great white bear charging in his direction. 

“Bear.”

Ray stood up and waved. The bear saw him and increased its speed. When he was close enough, Bear put out his paws to brake his path, and came upon Ray in a shower of snow. Ray ran forward and hugged him.

“I got the knife.”

Bear nuzzled his hair. 

“Where to now?” Ray asked, presuming that they would resume their journey north. He had acquired the knives, but he didn’t know how they could be used to break the curse. 

But Bear sat down on his haunches and refused to move. 

“I guess we wait?”

**

When dawn started to lighten the sky, Onyx moved further off the road, away from any potential pursuit once the town watch discovered the murdered man. He steered a westward course back towards his home village and away from the trauma and chaos Victoria left in her wake. He wasn’t sure if he cared about breaking his curse anymore. All his efforts had only led to more sorrow. That ghostly wizard gave terrible advice, Ray decided. 

As he struggled through the pathless woods, he remembered the blacksmith’s wife in the first town and her offer of shelter. Maybe she could help him. If not, he could return to the cabin in the forests and live out his days. If Goldie lifted Bear’s curse, perhaps he and Bear could ease this constant ache of grief when they returned from their quest. 

At night, Onyx rolled himself in his cape both for warmth and for concealment. He was grateful that summer lingered and the nights weren’t too terribly cold. 

Drawing near the first town, Ray swung his path around to the south, keeping the town walls to his right. She had said the smith was at the crossroads to the west. He didn’t dare take to the road again until the crossroads were in sight. He chanced upon the southerly road, but hid himself quickly amongst the trees, stepping carefully and listening for any sounds of travelers. 

But the road was empty at that time of day and soon he smelled the scent of hot iron on the wind. A creek burbled across his path and Ray crossed it at the ford, but then ducked back amongst the trees, watching carefully the comings and goings from the smithy to the house. The smith had customers and a child ran from the house with a covered basket at noon while the man was discussing business. He gave the child an affectionate pat on the head and then sent the bairn back into the house. Soon enough, the customers left and the way seemed clear. 

Skirting the smithy, Ray came to the house from the kitchen garden and knocked on the door. 

Presently, the smith’s wife answered the door, her plain face alight with wariness and curiosity. “Yes?”

“Uh, do you remember me? I carved . . . uh, was selling wooden animals in town.”

“Of course! The girl from the market. The wee ones love those toys.”

“You said, I mean, you offered . . .” he trailed off. There may be some female code he didn’t know but he wasn’t willing to risk her safety without plain speaking. “Someplace to hide,” he finished.

She looked him over carefully. “Indeed I did. Come in.”

“Sit yourself by the fire,” she said, and pulled out a loaf of bread, which she sliced and handed to Ray. 

“I’m Ellen. Who might you be?”

Afraid of further implicating his sister in his crimes, and remembering that Victoria hadn’t hesitated to throw the name around without care when she was proving her point about the weakness of men, Ray decided that he couldn’t use his sister’s name here. Sticking to his resolve not to endanger this woman and her family with deception, he gave her his real name. “Ray.”

“Ray. A drop of golden sun. But you seem lacking in sunshine.”

“I was never the golden one,” he said, thinking of his heart-brother. “Moonbeams perhaps.”

“Ah. But the moon is just as lovely as the sun, in its own way.”

Ray wasn’t comfortable with discussion about beauty, for Victoria had taught him that beauty means nothing without a kind heart. 

“May I stay for a bit? I can help around here, anything you want me to do. Please.”

Ellen nodded. “I’ll tell himself that you’re my oldest sister’s youngest. He can never keep my family straight.”

Ray soon found himself co-opted by the children, who seemed delighted to meet the girl who had given them the marvelous animals. And who would lighten the load of their chores. The smith, whose name was Bran, merely nodded when Ellen explained the situation. The woman had the sense to keep the story at the minimum, but Bran didn’t seemed inclined to question his wife. 

Ray did everything he could to help around the house, including the cooking and mending. He and Goldie had been bachelors long enough that they both had picked up many skills usually reserved for women; they couldn’t go to Goldie’s mother or Blackie’s sisters every time they needed a shirt mended or a meal cooked. Ray couldn’t sew as fine a seam as his sisters could or embellish the hem of a gown, but he could stitch well enough that his garments wouldn’t fall apart. 

He took up whittling again, using cast-off bits of wood from the forge. The children were delighted and didn’t mind that the only thing he made was endless poses of bears.

“You are very skilled,” Ellen said one afternoon while they sat together companionably shucking peas. 

By this time, Ray had learned to use his skirts to his advantage. Instead of clenching his legs together to catch errant peas the way he would do if he were wearing pants, he spread his knees, making a deep bowl of the fabric with which to catch the peas. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, flicking another pea into his lap.

“Skilled in many things,” Ellen continued, her voice calm and neutral. But Ray picked up some odd note and he froze, looking at her warily. “You don’t usually find a girl that can do both a woman’s and a man’s jobs.”

Desperately hoping he was keeping his panic out of his face, Ray responded, “I was raised with my brother. Equally. We shared everything, even chores.”

“Ah,” Ellen nodded. “That would explain it.”

They worked in silence for a while, and Ray relaxed. 

“Still,” Ellen said. “I would think a brother would be concerned for his sister’s safety. If she were gone from home for a long time.”

Realizing that he must reveal some of his story, Ray set the bowl of peas aside. “Goldie doesn’t know. He went north at the end of spring to rescue a friend who had been laid under a wizard’s curse.”

Leaving the part out about the great white bear who talked like a human and the old ghost who turned him into a girl seemed like the best plan. There was only so much of his tale that anyone might believe. 

“Is that why sorrow clings to you like a cloud? Missing your brother?”

“No. I mean, yes, that’s part of it. But the world . . . it’s such a terrible place. How can anyone find joy in it?”

“Joy,” she mused. “It’s true, the world has many injustices. But we cannot hope to right them, we can only do the tasks that have been laid before us. There is joy to be found in the small things, the everyday things. If you look for them.”

Ray thought about the peace he found sitting with Ellen and shelling peas, and playing with the children, and the feel of a good meal in his belly. He supposed Ellen might be right. 

“I’ll try,” he said.

After their talk, Ray made sure to look at the world around him, look beyond his own misery. What he saw was that Ellen dealt with everyone, from children to customers with the same easy grace as she gave him. He saw that for some reason, her children adored him and clamored for his attention. He saw the care and detail that Bran put into his smithing work, and the pride he took in doing his job well. 

One morning while Ray swept off the steps from the night’s clutter, he watched the children capering about in the yard. Their antics were so amusing that he couldn’t help but smile at the commotion. He didn’t realize what he was doing until Ellen said, “I’ve not seen that before.”

Ray set his broom down and felt his face. The muscles of his cheeks seemed awkward, but it was true — he had managed a smile. He felt light and the cloud that had covered him for months seemed to lift away. 

“I’m happy,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Ellen said. “You did it yourself.”

_Your new form will allow to learn what you need to break your curse yourself._

Was that it, Ray wondered? He had to learn to be happy on his own and then the curse was over? He had broken the curse of sorrow, it seemed, but he was still a girl. He didn’t know how to change that. But he’d learned that the true value of a woman lay not in her looks. In his eyes, Ellen was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, because her kindness and grace outshone any physical beauty. 

Ray didn’t know where the old wizard was, probably with Goldie and Bear, but he could go apologize to the crone and see if she could change him back. He longed for his own home, too, for as much as he loved Ellen and her family, he hadn’t seen his sisters or his mother in months. And he missed his woodcutting business and the green woods.

“I think it’s time for me to go home,” he said.

Ellen patted his arm. “I’ll put an extra loaf in the oven this afternoon. We’ll send you off well-provisioned.”

“I don’t know how to thank you for letting me stay and figure things out,” Ray said. “If there’s anything I can ever do for you, go to the miner’s village on the eastern flank of the front range. Ask for Onyx.”

She laughed, “I’ll remember. But you’ve clearly been entangled in some strong magic and I’ll have no truck with it.”

“How did you know?”

“Oh, Ray. Did you never learn anything about smiths and crossroads? Bran isn’t here by accident.”

“Still, I’m grateful to you.”

She smiled. “I foresee much joy in your future.”

**

They stayed on that hillock of snow that didn’t look any different from any other hillock in Topaz’s eyes, but he supposed that Bear found some significance in their particular pile of snow. At night, Ray sometimes dreamed of the prince in the red tunic, but he could never get a glimpse of the man’s face. In the mornings, he awoke to longing, both of his body and his spirit, but with no way to assuage either. Every day, Bear went out hunting, bringing back seals, large fish with spiral horns growing from their foreheads, and one day a beast with long tusks that he could barely drag across the ice.

“This is too much,” Ray protested. “We can’t eat this much.”

Although, he supposed they were sitting in the middle of the world’s largest ice house and the meat wouldn’t rot. Bear stacked the carcasses in a hollow in the snow bank, and brushed snow over them with his huge paws.

“I don’t understand. Why?” And then Ray realized what was happening. “You’re stockpiling food. In case I . . . in case I have to go back on my own. Is that it?”

Bear looked frustrated, but Ray shook his head. 

“No. I don’t want to leave you. I’m not gonna fail. I love you and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Ray couldn’t adequately express his feelings to Bear. None of them would make sense to the animal, especially now that he couldn’t talk. It might be brotherly love of the sort he felt for Onyx, but he had always known Onyx would make his own home someday. This feeling in his chest when he thought of life without Bear was nothing like that. He thought that it might have to do with his curse - to love in the most hopeless way possible. Bear would never understand his feelings and would never return them. And while Ray felt no lust for Bear, the animal had soothed his soul’s ache for companionship the way no other person ever had.

One morning, Ray exited the tent to find the old man standing on a tuft of snow. His gut tightened, knowing that whatever the final ingredient to break the curse was, the time was at hand. 

“Come with me. Bring the knives but nothing else.”

Ray picked up his pack containing the Knife of the North and the Knife of the South. The old wizard led them north up a long slope until he finally stopped at the edge. Looking out, Ray saw that they had reached the border of the land, for the ice continued but it was cracked and broken with the force of the waters below it, heaved up in fantastic shapes, but a maze of crests that would soon lose an unwary traveler forever. 

“Your final task,” the old man said, turning to face Ray and Bear. “You must have courage.”

“Haven’t I proven myself?” Ray asked. 

“This will demand everything you have.”

“I’m ready,” Ray said, leaning against Bear.

“Are you?” the old man muttered. Then he continued, “You must slay the bear with the Knife of the South, then flay the skin from his carcass with the Knife of the North, and wrap yourself in his skin to keep away the cold. If you do all these things in good faith, his curse may be broken.”

“What? No!” Ray howled. Horror shot through his veins as his heart pounded thunderously. Fear made him shake.

“Then you will die here,” the old man said relentlessly. “And the bear will go to the north pole, never to leave.”

Ray buried his face in Bear’s fur. “I can’t,” he sobbed. 

“It’s the only way to break his curse,” the old man insisted. 

“What? Kill him?” Ray shouted. “That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Perhaps not. But you must have trust. And courage to do what you must. I know this is hard.”

“You can’t ask this of me,” Ray protested.

“There is no one else. No one I would trust with this task. No one who would do it with love.”

And to Ray’s horror, Bear laid himself down and rolled over onto his back, lifting his left foreleg. 

“If you . . .” the old man choked. As Ray looked at him, he saw tears streaming down the weathered face. “If you put the knife through his armpit, you can reach his heart. Kill him instantly.”

He looked at Ray, his eyes pleading. “Don’t make him suffer. Do it quickly.”

“I can’t,” Ray whispered. 

“Understood,” the old man said. And then he disappeared.

Angrily, Ray cleared the tears out of his eyes. “Come on,” he said to Bear. “Let’s go home.”

But Bear sat down on his rump and looked sadly towards the north where the horizon met the sky in an endless field of jagged white.

“Oh,” Ray said. “You can’t.”

Bear looked even more mournful.

“Humans can’t live there,” Ray said. “I would go with you. I would. It’s beautiful here, and I love you. You’re my closest friend. Even more than Blackie. But I’d die after a few days. So I lose you either way.”

Bear butted Ray’s chest and licked his face, cleaning away his tears. Then he rolled onto his back and raised his left paw again, giving Ray a clear view of his armpit.

_It’s the only way to break his curse._

“I don’t hold much truck with magic,” Ray growled. “It has stupid rules and makes no sense.”

Bear looked at him steadily, his eyes full of trust and hope.

“I guess I’m the one not making any sense now,” Ray continued. “After the last year. All the things I’ve seen.”

He sighed. “I don’t think that old man would do anything to hurt you. He seems to care about you. And you clearly agree with his plan.”

Picking up the long Knife, Ray turned it in his hand, testing its weight and balance. It was not an elegant weapon, but heavy, sleek, and deadly. Much more useful in the far north than a slimmer sword would be. It would do the job well enough that Bear wouldn’t suffer long if Ray used it correctly. That was the problem — Ray wasn’t sure he could wield the Knife with enough force and determination it would need. If he hesitated and had second thoughts, his friend would suffer.

Ray grabbed Bear, wrapping his arms around the huge animal’s neck and burying his face in the fur for one last embrace with his friend. 

“I may never forgive you for this,” he muttered into the thick fur. 

Bear gave a mournful whuff in response. Ray stepped back, angrily swiping his eyes so he could see what he was doing. Bear raised his leg one last time, watching Ray trustfully. Ray stood over him, placing the point of the Knife of the South against the bare skin under the animal’s armpit. He checked the angle carefully to be sure that one thrust would lead straight to Bear’s heart.

“I love you,” he said, and then put all his weight behind the hilt of the Knife, plunging it into Bear as hard and fast as he could.

Bear shuddered once and then the light in his eyes dimmed and flickered out. Ray sobbed once as he sat down in the snow, his eyes streaming. 

“Finish it,” he muttered to himself. “Do what you promised. Follow the rules. Stupid magic.”

He pulled the Knife of the South out of Bear’s body and cleaned it off in the snow. If he had to journey back south on his own, he might need it, for hunting or defense. 

Then Ray took the Knife of the North from his pack and set it against Bear’s skin, holding it the way he had seen the hunters do. It cut through the thick bear skin with ease, separating skin from the muscle beneath a thick layer of fat that had kept Bear warm in life.

Pretending that he was doing nothing more than skinning a rabbit, Ray cut from the animal’s chin to its tail, then made long slices under the arms and legs. He cut carefully around Bear’s face and ears, shuddering as the Knife of the North made quick work of the job.

Tears streamed down his face as he worked, the moisture condensing in the frozen air, rising with the steam from Bear’s cooling body. When he got to the feet, Ray broke down in great racking sobs. The idea of cutting the feet from the noble animal was distasteful and he didn’t know if he could continue. Blood smeared his cheeks as he tried to wipe away the snot running freely from his nose.

But the ghostly wizard had asked three things of him, and Ray understood enough of magic to know that he couldn’t leave any part of the task undone. Leaning his weight on the curved blade, he pushed down with force, but the Knife severed each foot cleanly. Rolling the carcass over, Ray pulled the bearskin loose and dragged it some distance away. 

Night had fallen while he was about his grisly task and the winds blew cold from the icy sea in front of him. Ray shuddered, knowing the odds of him surviving the cold night were slim. But he tugged the bear skin around him, fur side in, until he could wrap himself completely in the pelt. He was still covered in blood and worse things, but he didn’t feel like scrubbing himself clean with snow. Ray knew that the smell of blood would drift on the wind, bringing all manner of scavengers, but he no longer cared what happened to him. He was alone, hundreds of miles from his home, in an alien landscape in which he didn’t know how to survive. 

Bear was dead, at Ray’s hand, and his curse was unbroken. Ray had failed. Tears leaked out of his eyes, joining the other messes on his face as he sobbed himself to sleep. He did not expect that he would ever awaken again.

***

Onyx made his way to the small dell where they had first encountered the crone. The stump of the tree she had been felling was still there but no sign of the old woman. Ray sat on the stump, feeling despair crowd his heart, but he had learned that he could be happy, and refused to let it in.

“I’m sorry!” he shouted, hoping that somehow she would hear him. “I didn’t understand but now I do! A woman isn’t defined by her appearance!”

He stood up and turned to face the other direction. “A woman owes a man nothing!” he called. “Not even her smile!” 

Nothing happened. He knew without looking that he still had his girlish body. The breeze shifted his long hair, but nothing else stirred in the clearing.

“I won’t give up,” he said softly. “I know these woods; I’ll find you.”

Turning his back on the dell, Ray made his way back to the cabin. As he approached, he saw smoke rising from the chimney, and he hurried his steps, thinking that Topaz had returned from his quest. Ray had missed his heart-brother. 

Instead, he found the old crone at the stove, stirring what smelled like a tasty venison stew. 

“I looked for you,” Ray said, feeling silly, but not knowing what else to say. 

“And you found me,” she replied. 

“What are you doing?”

She laughed then, a raspy cackle. “Making us dinner.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I heard your repentance. And I find your heart faithful. I came to break your curse.”

“By making me dinner?” Ray asked incredulously. All the curse-breaking lore he’d read over the past few months had never mentioned this as a method of ending curses.

“Of course not. Curse-breaking requires a kiss.”

The man Ray had been before the curse would have balked at the idea of kissing such a wrinkly and ancient woman, but Ray had learned his lesson. “I’d be honored to kiss you.”

“This needs to simmer in any case.” She tapped the spoon on the side of the pot and set it aside. She turned around, looking at him expectantly.

Ray put gentle hands on her waist, mindful of her fragile body. Even at his reduced height, he had to bend over to reach her lips. Her upper lip had a few bristly hairs that scraped against his mouth, but Ray wouldn’t skimp on this kiss. He moved his mouth against hers, coaxing her lips with his. She responded to his attempts, moving with him.

As they kissed, they both grew taller, and Ray felt his chest flatten as he pulled her closer. 

When he pulled away, he found that in the place of the old crone was a young woman, as bright and beautiful as a star in the night sky. She had pale, shining hair and pale, smooth skin. Looking down at himself, he found that his body had been restored, his long hair gone and his breasts flattened into small male nipples. He would have liked to check other parts, too, but not in the presence of the radiant woman now standing in his cottage.

“What?” he sputtered. “What’s going on?”

She smiled at him. “I’ve decided to take you for my husband.”

“Okay, back up. Before we say our vows, can I have your name at least? And an explanation?”

“Stella.”

“Star. It suits you.”

“You suit me. Do you agree to be wed?”

“Not so fast. Why? Why me?”

She pulled him over to the settee by the fire, curling close to him as they sat down. He had to admit that she was physically everything he desired in a woman, but he was wary of physical appearances, having learned the hard lesson about outward looks.

“When you and your heart-brother rescued me the first time, I saw that you both had gentle hearts and kind souls. I decided that I would have one of you for my husband.”

“So it could have been either of us? I’m just the one who happened to insult you?”

“Perhaps I thought so at first. But I have learned that your golden brother has given his heart elsewhere. And I found that your nature suited me better. His nature is a better match for his chosen mate.”

Ray didn’t know what to say to that. The idea that Topaz had fallen in love with someone and Ray didn’t know about it didn’t sit well with him. Ray would know it if his heart-brother had met someone he loved. He and Topaz had never been apart for long their entire lives, until they had taken their separate curse-breaking quests. Perhaps Topaz had met someone on his quest.

“I would know if Goldie had met someone,” he argued, because Ray was his heart-brother. How could he not know if he had found his mate?

“You were there when he did.”

“What? There’s been no one new in our lives for years. Unless you count Bear.”

Her smirk told him that she did indeed count Bear as Goldie’s lover.

“No. That’s impossible. With an animal? He would never.”

“Don’t worry,” she replied. “He is in love with what’s under the bear skin, not the bear itself.”

Ray made a face. “That’s even worse.”

“Enough about him,” Stella shrugged. “Well? Am I not beautiful enough for you? Will you wed me?”

“You are beautiful, I’ll grant you. But a woman’s value is not in her beauty. What is your value?” 

He challenged her with some trepidation, knowing that she could take offense and curse him again, curse him worse this time. But he found that he couldn’t agree to marry her just because she wanted him to.

But his fears were groundless, for she looked delighted. “I see I shall have to court you! A worthy man indeed.”

“Court me?”

“Yes, of course. We shall start with dinner. You will see that I am an extraordinary cook.”

She stood and pulled him to his feet.

“You wouldn’t put a potion to make me love you in the stew, would you?”

“Never!” she scoffed. “That would violate the rules of courting. You must agree to be my husband freely.”

He already knew that she was smart and powerful, and he suspected that the courting phase of their relationship would not be long. 

She moved to kiss him again, but he held up a hand to stop her. “I’m looking forward to being courted, so I think we’ll have to agree to keep kissing to a minimum. If I’m to judge your value fairly, I can’t be swayed by your sweet kisses.”

“Fair enough. How many kisses per day would you agree are acceptable?”

Delighted with her bargaining, Ray answered, “I think one will be the limit, or I will lose my head entirely.”

Giving a wicked laugh that curled Ray’s toes in his boots, Stella let him go and turned to the stove. She ladled the thick stew into wide bowls and joined him at the table. Ray thought he might enjoy being courted.

**

Topaz woke up, and remembered that he had never expected to wake up again. One bear skin was not enough to protect him from either the elements or the predators of the north. He expected that he would be suffering from frostbite at the very least, but instead, he found himself warm and comfortable. Someone’s breath was stirring his hair and strong arms held him close. 

Opening his eyes, Ray saw the canvas walls of the tent he’d abandoned the day before and for an instant, he’d hoped the whole thing had been some terrible dream. But no, he was wrapped in the skin of a great white bear. Despair clogged his heart, but there was still the matter of whoever was sharing the tent with him.

Slowly, Ray turned his head, trying to remember where the knives where in case he were in danger. Although, who would sneak into a tent to cuddle someone if they planned to harm them? Ray decided the strain of the quest had gotten to his brain.

The stranger holding him so closely turned out to be a man with dark wavy hair and pale skin, wearing a red tunic. Cautiously, Ray reached out to touch his cheek softly, afraid that he was indeed dreaming and this apparition would disappear upon his full waking just like every other time. But in this instance, bristles scratched under his fingers as his hand met warm skin. The stranger opened his eyes.

“I dreamed you,” Ray said, staring into eyes the color of the piled up ice. “Am I dead?”

The stranger turned his face into Ray’s hand, nuzzling his lips across Ray’s palm. “Ray,” he sighed. “At last.”

Ray choked. “Only one person says my name just that way.”

The strange man, who had been Ray’s dearest companion, cupped Ray’s cheek, his hand large and warm. Tears leaked out of Ray’s eyes and ran into his hair. 

“You’re alive,” he gasped. “And not a bear.”

The man smiled, a dazzling smile like the sun on snow crystals. His eyes were warm and full of the adoration that Ray had dreamed of. 

“You saved me,” he said. “Your true heart broke my curse.”

“I killed you.”

“No, only someone who truly loved me could have struck the blow.”

Ray scrubbed at his eyes. “Yeah, well, I told you I loved you.”

“And now? Can you love me still? Can I stir your soul in this form?”

Remembering his long ago mutterings about love, Ray pondered the question. He scooted away, wrenching himself free in order to see more clearly the shape his friend had taken. The man lay still under his perusal, his eyes full of trust and hope. Ray found that his figure was more than pleasing; indeed he was the most beautiful man Ray had ever seen. 

“What is your name?” Ray asked gruffly. “I can’t keep calling you Bear.”

“Benton.”

Ray settled himself back against Benton, finding it felt as familiar as if they had lain together in such a manner for years instead of but a moment. He realized that he had loved Benton all along and hadn’t paid any attention to the outer trappings of the bear form, instead seeing past that to the truth of Benton’s nature. He felt like a bit of an idiot for not realizing sooner that Bear was actually a man under an enchantment. 

“Kiss me,” he said. 

Benton obliged, joining their mouths. Fire raced through Ray, enough to melt the thickest ice and he moaned, pulling Benton closer. The other man responded by rolling them together and pressing Ray back against the furs. 

“I love you,” Benton said. 

Ray smiled into the kisses as he tugged at Benton’s tunic.

Much later, with sweat cooling on their sated bodies as they lay wrapped in the bear pelt, warm even in their bare skin, Ray remarked, “I think you left out a few details about your curse.”

“Ah,” Benton said. “Indeed. I am sorry that I didn’t tell you everything, but that was part of the enchantment.”

“What happened?”

“It is a long tale.”

Ray rubbed his naked leg against Benton’s flank, the short hairs catching together. “I don’t have anywhere pressing to be.”

Benton laughed. “Very well. My father was the king of a realm to the south of here, on the edge of the ice. He was a wizard and my mother came from a long line of shape shifters. I get the ability to take the bear shape from her. A neighboring king wanted to join forces with our kingdom to conquer these icy lands. But as you see, the Inuit are already here and my father had no taste for a war of conquest against a people who had done him no harm.”

“Inuit? Those are the hunters we saw?”

“Yes. When my father wouldn’t help him, Gerrard, who was a powerful wizard as well, conspired to murder my father by means of magic. His plan succeeded and at the same time, he cast a spell to trap me in my bear form and exile me to the north pole. With both of us gone, he would annex our kingdom and continue his plans of conquest.”

“But you came south.”

“With his dying breath, my father mitigated the curse, giving me one year of freedom instead of immediate exile. He told me that my salvation lay to the south, in the great forests.”

“Where you found Blackie and me.”

“Indeed. You and your heart-brother offered me friendship of the sort I never expected. If I had truly been forced into exile, the memory of my year with the two of you would have been enough to warm my soul for the rest of my days.”

“But you’re mine, right?” Ray asked cautiously. After a lifetime of sharing things with Onyx, Ray found that Benton’s love was the one thing he could not grant his heart-brother.

“My beautiful golden Ray. You have owned my heart since the first moment I saw you.”

Ray laughed and rolled Benton over onto his back. “Good,” he said, giving the other man a deep kiss. 

After a time, he drew back and smacked Benton on his flank. “Let’s get going. Time’s a-wasting.”

He sat up and started pulling his clothes on. 

Benton sat up more slowly, his hair a tousled mess. “Go? Where?”

“We have to get your kingdom back,” Ray answered. “They’ve been under the rule of that creepy Gerrard for a year now. Plus I want to see my new home.”

“You’d stay here? Away from everything you’ve known?”

“I go wherever you go. I thought I made that clear.”

Benton nodded, seemingly overcome. He worked on getting his many layers of clothing back on.

As they were striking the tent, and packing their gear in smaller bundles that a man instead of a bear could carry, the old wizard shimmered into view.

“Dad?” Benton breathed.

“Yes, I can’t stay long. I remained only to see you safe.”

“I am safe,” Benton answered. “And well.”

The old wizard smiled. “In case you weren’t sure . . . you have my blessing. Your golden man has proved his worth. He is both courageous and loyal.”

“Yeah, well, thanks,” Ray interjected. “But we would be together anyway, will you or won’t you.”

The ghost nodded, and then turned to Benton. “I’ve cast my last spell, son. I leave the kingdom in your hands now. Rule well.”

“I will.”

The old man walked away, from one moment to the next shimmering into nothingness against the endless expanse of ice. 

Ray kissed the tears away from Benton’s cheeks. “You ready?”

“I … yes.”

“You know,” Ray said as they pulled the heavy packs over their shoulders. “Having some large animal that could carry all of this would be handy now and again.” He kept his voice light and teasing. 

Benton grabbed his mitten-encased hand. “Maybe someday. For now, I’ve been too long in that form. And I’m not finished kissing you.”

“Oh well, in that case,” Ray smirked. 

They headed south, retracing their steps. And never once did Benton feel a compulsion to turn towards the pole. Ray thought ahead, to the battle to get Benton’s kingdom back, to the times they would visit Blackie in the deep forest, to the life he and Benton would make together. His existence had seemed so predictable until he rescued the great white bear.

The wolf met them at the edge of the ice fields, where the land grew green again.

**

_Epilogue: One Year Later, More or Less_

Benton, the King of Fraser, was in the habit of holding court in the middle of the chief village in the land of Fraser. The king refused to inhabit any sort of a grand dwelling, but had agreed, at his consort’s insistence, to expand and modernize the small cabin that was his family’s seat. When he held court, King Benton would station himself on a wooden chair, flanked on his left by his consort, a man by the name of Topaz, and on his right by a large timber wolf. About his shoulders, King Benton wore the skin of a magnificent polar bear for a cloak. Folk whispered that the king’s wolf-familiar was a wizard in disguise and that the king took the form of a wolf himself on nights when the moon was full.

Both King Benton and Topaz laughed themselves silly whenever some new variation of the old legend popped up. The wolf snorted and hid his face in his paws.

In the high summer, when the northern lands were as warm as they ever got, and the sun took a drunken path through the sky, King Benton held court, listening to petitions from his subjects. All were welcome to lay their complaints and quarrels to the king’s judgment. 

On Midsummer’s Day, folk showed up well into the late hours as the sun wandered overhead. Towards midnight, an old woman appeared in the square and made her slow and halting way towards the king’s seat. She wore grey robes and a blue hat. A raven perched on her walking staff.

“Hey! I know you!” Topaz shouted, but the king laid a hand on his arm, quieting the other man. 

The king stood up as she approached the dais. “How may we help you, mother?”

“Help her?” Topaz snorted. 

The old crone cackled. “Perhaps I’m here to help you instead.”

“Oh?” the king asked.

“Why haven’t you married your consort?” she returned, her ancient voice quavering.

“None of your business,” Topaz retorted. He blushed. “We’ve been busy.”

But the king looked at her gravely. “I have asked him, but he puts me off.”

“Are you in any doubt of his love for you?” she probed. 

“Never,” the king replied firmly. 

“Then it seems my happiness depends on yours,” the crone said. “For my lover refuses my hand as well.”

Topaz made a rude noise, but King Benton looked sympathetic. “How can this puzzle be resolved?”

“Are you taking her side?” Topaz demanded.

But the crone laughed and smote her staff on the paving stones. The raven fluttered up squawking, but as he landed, his form changed. There in the bird’s place stood Onyx, his handsome dark features smiling and his green eyes lit by the sun. Topaz gave a cry and leaped into the air before sweeping his heart-brother into a fierce embrace.

The crone straightened her spine and casting off her grey robes, stood swathed in a deep blue cloak spangled with embroidered stars. Her pale hair glowed in the light.

“There, you see? He is well and happy. Will you not wed me?” she asked Onyx. 

“Ray?” King Benton asked. “This was the reason for your refusal? Why would you not tell me?”

Topaz leaned his head against Onyx’s, and faced the king. “How could I ask you to leave your kingdom? To leave your people who just got you back? And Diefenbaker won’t be parted from you again. But the southern people are not fond of wolves.”

He gave Onyx one last squeeze and then returned to the king’s side, tucking himself against his lover. “And how could I celebrate my own happiness if I thought my brother was still cursed?”

“This is Stella,” Onyx said, wrapping his arm around the starry woman. “She’s been courting me these past months, but I couldn’t consent to our marriage without knowing whether you lived or died.”

“Enough!” Stella snapped, stamping her staff against the stones. “Fetch the person who performs such ceremonies.”

She turned to King Benton. “Assuming that meets your approval, Your Majesty.”

The king chuckled. “Well, Ray? Will you have me?”

“Of course,” Topaz replied.

And so it was that King Benton of Fraser married Topaz Gold on Midsummer’s Night, while the witch Stella took Onyx Black for her husband that same evening. And both unions were forever blessed under the sun and the stars and the long dark nights.


End file.
